


Fuck or Die is Exactly How It Sounds

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s09e18 Meta Fiction, Fuck Or Die, Hate Sex, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, grudge sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6521308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a super unfair curse, considering Gadreel killed the guy before Sam and Dean even showed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck or Die is Exactly How It Sounds

 

 

There’s a flash of light and a frankly condescending giggle, and the witch was gone.

“Oh, come on!” Dean shouted, staring into the empty space where she’d been. “We weren’t even there!” He kicked an empty can across the alley. “Freakin’ witches!”

“How much time you figure we’ve got?”

“Shitty two-bit witch like that? An hour. Maybe two.”

“So, here, then?” Sam concluded, casting a glance around the alleyway.

“Nah, back in the shop, at least.”

“Doesn’t that seem a bit… disrespectful?”

“To who, Sam, the bitch who just hit us with a fuck-or-die to avenge a murder we didn’t even do? Yeah. I don’t give a fuck.”

“I do not understand the point of this,” Gadreel said from inside his ring of holy fire. Dean leveled a finger at him.

“You, shut up. This is all your fault. Sam, you got the cuffs?”

“Wrists,” Sam said, holding up the thick metal manacles and gesturing to Gadreel’s hands.

“I will not submit,” the angel said, standing a little taller. Dean kicked another can.

“We’re not even at that part, man. We should be. From here it should be a hop skip and a jump to the ‘torture ‘till you talk’ segment of the show, but no. You can’t buy shit with money like a normal person, you’ve gotta roast the shopkeeper, and now _we_ gotta spend the next hour working off a fuck-or-die.”

“What is a ‘fuck or die?’” Gadreel asked, tipping his head in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Castiel.

“Exactly what it sounds like. Now put the cuffs on.”

 

 

They had to get a couple angel blades out of the trunk, but eventually Gadreel agreed to put the cuffs on and go back into the headshop. The front of the store was glass, which was no good, but the back office was windowless and thankfully dark. Sam eyed the ratty couch with distaste.

“Rules,” Dean said, stripping off his jacket. “No eye contact, no kissing on the mouth, we never talk about this again.”

“Have you encountered this before?”

“ _We never talk about this again,_ ” Dean repeated, louder. “And, new rule, since this is all your fault, you’re bottom.”

The angel scowled, sinking onto the couch and unlacing his boots with his bound hands.

“Sodomy is sodomy, I don’t see how it matters.”

“That’s cuz you’ve never lost a fuck-or-die game of rock paper scissors. Hurry up.”

Sam kicked out of his jeans.

“I don’t get why you have to be all the way naked.”

“Clothes make it seem cheap. And cuz fuck you, that’s why. How do you want to do this?”

“One each ought to be enough.”

“How bout you, feathers? You got a preference?”

“Whatever gets this over with the fastest.”

“Spit roast it is. Hit the deck.” Gadreel gave him a look and he rephrased. “On the floor. Hands and knees.”

Dean held his breath for a second, then exhaled. Now the hard part.

So to speak.

There was a rubber in his wallet for just such occasions (okay maybe not _just_ such occasions) but he was having trouble getting worked up enough to put it on. He didn’t look over to gauge Sam’s progress.

“Just get it over with,” Gadreel finally snapped, glancing back.

“I’m trying to imagine being surrounded by _anyone I would actually fuck_ ,” Dean growled back, and hell if the murder-eyes Gadreel gave him didn’t make Little Dean perk up and pay attention.

Oooh-kay, go ahead and file that under ‘things we will never ever examine.’

Sam knelt behind the angel, putting one hand on the back of his neck and lining up, pushing halfway in without preamble. He withdrew and shoved forward again, hard enough that Gadreel needed to brace his hands on the carpet to keep from falling forward. The angel’s breath caught and came hard, and he groaned as Sam bottomed out inside him.

Dean got the condom on.

Gadreel wrinkled his nose when he saw the hunter in front of him. Dean was imagining an Eiffel-tower type situation but apparently Gadreel had different ideas. As soon as Dean was close enough he reached out with both hands, planting them on Dean’s hips and shoving.

Dean went down like a sack of potatoes, carpet burning his ass and then his shoulders when Gadreel shoved him down flat. Sam grabbed the angel by the hair, pulling him back before he could get any further, but apparently he’d accomplished his goal because the next thing Dean knew, he was buried to the hilt in Gadreel’s mouth.

And _fuck,_ the dude sucked dick like it was his _job,_ hollowing out his cheeks and pulling so hard it almost hurt. Dean jerked his hips upward, half in self-defense and half because fuck it, two can play at that game. Gadreel gagged on him, trying to pull back and finding Sam in the way. His groans were muffled as Sam drove into him, shoving him forward and down onto Dean.

Dean shut his eyes and listened, trying to focus on the feeling of the mouth on his cock, and not on how it belongs to an angel they’re going to torture for information later, and _definitely_ not about how every deep swallow was because the dude was getting reamed by his _brother._

Sam had one hand pressed between the angel’s shoulder blades, holding him down. Sam wasn’t a gentle lover on the best of days and right now all he could think about was how this bastard had been _in_ him, had _used_ him and now maybe he knew just a _little_ of what that felt like.

He grit his teeth and yanked back on Gadreel’s hip, pulling him deeper. He could feel himself bottoming out inside the man, and the friction _hurt_ but that was fine with Sam. His fingers were going to leave bruises, and that was fine too. The angel was struggling to stay up, to breathe around Dean’s cock, and the edge of Sam’s mouth quirked.

Choke on it, bitch.

He leaned forward, putting more of his weight onto the angel. Gadreel’s hands slid on the cheap carpet.

“Fuck, easy, Sam. Remember, he’s gotta-”

“I remember,” Sam snapped, and it was a complete and total lie. “New plan.”

He pulled out and lay back, propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’re on me. Dean, you’re standing. So his hands are free.”

“All that to avoid a reacharound?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Sam hissed, and Dean didn’t press the issue. Sam collapsed backwards and stared at the ceiling, teeth gritting when Gadreel settled on top of him, burying him in that tight heat again.

The manacle chain jingled as Gadreel worked his hardening cock. It wasn’t something he’d ever done for himself, and he thought maybe he was going to have a hard time possessing this vessel again, if push came to consent.

Dean’s cock was thick in his mouth, straining his jaw and making him fight against the fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close. And Sam-

It had hurt when Sam was behind him but it was better now that he was in control and he ground down onto the taller man, burying him deep-

_There_ it was.

He pushed down harder, grinding against Sam’s hips, trying to hit that spot again. Sam’s hands were tight on his hips and the vessel was responding well to that. There was a tight, hot feeling building up in his belly. His hands slid over his cock, palms together, testing the pressure.

Dean cursed and Gadreel felt the hunter’s cock pulsing, tightening rhythmically.

_He’s coming,_ he thought. _So that’s what that feels like._

A moment later Sam was crying out as well, muffled between gritted teeth, and he jerked up into Gadreel one last time, and hit that spot, _that spot-_

Gadreel saw fire.

 

 

“Metatron says you usually put people in the trunk,” Gadreel said from the backseat. “Am I being afforded special accommodations because-”

“ _Don’t talk about it,_ ” the brothers hissed in unison.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done hate sex before?   
> It turns out it's actually pretty hard to write a 3-way where none of the characters really like each other or want it to happen. 
> 
> I did some hate-sex research and came across [this beauty](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6130960) which I think has a better hate-sex atmosphere, where there's frustration and anger and you're either gonna duke it out or fuck it out. I couldn't really make that work with a fuck-or-die spell. 
> 
> I almost didn't write this- the reason I did was because of Dean. I couldn't get this idea out of my head that he and Sam have gotten hit by one of these _before._ Like, you deal with enough witches, one of them's gonna get to you eventually, right? So I had this mental image of Dean just angrily stripping his pants off like, "freaking witches!" 
> 
> And Gadreel is all dumb like "I don't understand this curse" and Dean goes all 'what's the darkness' on him like "Fuck or die, Gadreel, what's it sound like? Does it sound good?" 
> 
> This just... didn't gel right. Sorry. 
> 
> [This one is better, too.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5169323)


End file.
